


Impossible Fusion

by Birdfluff



Series: Fusing Mercenaries [5]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:03:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5800060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdfluff/pseuds/Birdfluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one fused with Pyro. In fact, no one tried to. They were always wearing a rubber inflammable suit. The quartz's touch couldn't have affected them... Well shouldn't be able to affect them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impossible Fusion

_A curious rather sweet creature, if ya don't get 'em mad._

The Engineer's words stuck like glue to her whenever she saw the pyromaniac. Miss Pauling could never be sure why Pyro acted the way they did. They were silent, playful, childlike, almost unsuited for war until she saw them run around mercilessly setting anyone ablaze. Truly, a creature that struck the most coldest mercenary with fear for the pyro wasn't even in the same world as them.

No one fused with Pyro. In fact, no one tried to. They were always wearing a rubber inflammable suit so the quartz's touch couldn't have affected them. Miss Pauling watched them intently during the wars, how they would pull their teammates aside to dance with them. The victim would look confused, reply negatively and run back into the field, leaving the poor thing with shoulders drooped. 

_Someone should at least dance with them once..._ She found herself thinking.

~~~

Done for the day at the base. Miss Pauling stretched her shoulders and sauntered down to the hub. She nearly made it to the door when something brushed up against her shoulder. Presuming it was the scout, she prepared a fake smile for his onslaught of vulgar flirtations. When she turned to the mercenary, she about jumped out of her skin at the abrupt lack of personal space Pyro was giving her. This was normal, but it did caught her by surprise at times, especially when she assumed someone else.

She took a step backwards as her smile became sweet, her tone changed as if speaking to a child, “Hey, Pyro. Do you need something, buddy?”

The pyromaniac extended their arms towards her.

“... You want a hug?”

Rapidly their head shook as well as their hands. 

“You want me to...?” she extended her words to give her time to ponder until she finally took a guess, “dance with you?”

A furious nod followed.

“Oh,” she mentally shrugged, might as well help them feel better, “sure, Pyro, I'll dance with you.”

They clapped happily, a deep giggling arose from their mask. Suddenly Pyro grasped her hands and hurried along to the middle of the room. Miss Pauling managed to get one her hands free to fix her askew glasses, breathlessly snickering, “Pyro, I'm glad you're happy, but I think we're missing an important detail so we can dance.”

They tilted their head.

“Music.”

A little muffled 'oh' emitted from the gas mask. At first they gazed around the lobby before turning back to the lady in purple. They then grabbed her other hand and swayed, humming. This... this was adorable. Miss Pauling felt her smile growing. She followed their lead as they soon danced in a circle. Pyro let go of her left hand for her to spin them around. Tripping over their own feet the pyromaniac fell forward into their partner, who reluctantly held her ground and helped them back to their feet.

“You have to be careful when spinning, buddy!” they tugged her arm, “Try again? Alright.”

She led the spin this time at a slower pace, “There we go. That's a lot better.”

Pyro made a gleeful noise and laughed as they picked up her up and gently swung her about. After the shock wore off, she joined in and inquired to be put down. Pyro did as told then proceeded to embrace her as a thank you, nuzzling her cheek. She returned the gesture without a second thought. They didn't fuse which was good for her sake but she made the little mercenary happy. That was alright in her book. Maybe she could convince everyone else later to humor their teammate.

Before she could speak, light surrounded and engulfed them. As quick as it arrived it vanished, a fusion in place of the two. It stood there, looking around until finally gazing down at it's body. Nothing unusual had happened so it simply poked at it's rubber attire before shrugging. Cautiously it stepped one foot at a time down the hallway. On occasion, it would stop and stare at the walls, at the doors, and then through the windows. The fusion had it's feet planted there as it viewed the outdoors. 

Numb. That was the word. The fusion felt numb.

Hesitantly it pressed it's hands against the glass. Nothing. Pausing frequently, it took off one of it's gloves to reveal a delicate hand and then apprehensively placed it on the glass. It's body jumped at the cold touch. Finally, a reaction.

Someone cleared their throat near the fusion. It didn't want to turn away from the outside. Who saw it? It didn't care. It didn't want to know. The fusion just wanted to see the world around it. To touch the world. It placed it's hand on the glass again. After a short while, the person announced itself again but with words, words the fusion could understand, “You're staining the glass.”

Eventually, with enough difficulty, it removed it's hand and turned to the voice. Spy.

He eyed the fusion, “I am amazed how you could prove the impossible.”

His expression did not hold amazement. It was like a stone, with chiseled features concealed by a mask. He leaned down slightly, “Who is also in there?”

The fusion did not reply, merely standing off with the Frenchman, who then sighed and began to dig in his pocket. He withdrew a pocket notebook with a pencil in it's spiral, holding the book out for the creature, “I assume you can still write.”

It took the notebook and opened it, drawing out the pencil. The wait was not long until the fusion held up the book for him. 'Yes'

“Good. I'll ask again, who is in there?”

'Pauling'

His cigarette drooped slightly. He blinked away any visible astonishment and nodded, “I see. Was this by accident?”

'No'

Spy hummed. Silently he motioned the fusion to follow him. With a lot of inner persuasion, the creature pull itself away from the window to jog after the assassin.

~~~

The sight of his smoke room brought it to a stop. It stood in place to take in the new smells of smoke and wine and pictures on the walls. The creature then watched the Frenchman sit in his luxurious chair by the fire and gesture for the fusion to do the same. Unwillingly it obeyed and hopped onto the opposite seat.

“Tell me. What do you see?” By now everyone has experienced Pyroland, due to the spectacular goggles from Mann Co.. To be frank, everyone was uncomfortable wearing them on the battle field. It was morbid to hear laughter as one shoots at the enemy, to hear everything in a higher pitch. How the masked pyro could handle anything like that was unnatural. Since Miss Pauling has not firsthand dabbled into the concerning land as far as Spy knew, this was a must in order for them to cooperate.

The fusion held still for a few moments until it moved it's hand to flip the page over, 'I cannot see it. Home.'

 _Is that was it calls that nightmare?_ Smoke puffed out of his mouth as he spoke, “Of course.. You are seeing through the eyes of someone who does not see Pyroland. Is that why you were just standing there? You have never seen what is really outside that mask, correct?”

The fusion shifted in it's spot, avoiding his eyes. He took this as a yes.

“Are you afraid?”

'A bit'

He paused to choose his words carefully, “Everyone sees the world a bit differently. Seeing it from a new perspective is normal and... enticing. Although, you are not comfortable, yes?”

'Not at all. But it is enticing.'

“Would you like to see this way forever?”

The creature shook it's head firmly.

A small breathe of relief escaped from him, disguised as smoke, “Good. That is good to hear. I'm sure Miss Pauling would like to be her own person again—What is wrong?”

The fusion scrambled with uncertainty to write, 'What if we can't unfuse?'

“You _can_ ,” he leaned forward, his eyes narrowed and focused, “I have feared this myself. I still fear it, but you cannot let the fear rule you. Don't let it control your actions. Is that understandable?”

It nodded, holding the notebook close to it's body.

“You both are unfamiliar with how to unfuse. Do not fret, the process is simple. Stand up. Close your eyes, imagine two bodies, and breathe.”

Willingly the creature followed his instructions. It was intriguing to watch the fusion. How it moved, how it communicated. It was stable. It looked so natural, like it wasn't even a fusion. The only thing that tipped him off is when it removed its glove to touch the glass. The process was slow. Eventually light engulfed the creature and quickly dispersed as Miss Pauling and Pyro collapsed onto the ground.

“If you two could get off the floor quickly, I'd appreciate it. I just had it polished.”

“Sorry!” The woman clad in purple panted, fighting with her balance as she got onto her feet, “Thank you, Spy.”

“De rein.”

“C'mon, Pyro, let's get up now..!” She helped the pyromaniac up, as they gazed distantly at their body. “You okay, buddy? That was weird, huh? Felt.. very weird. Remind me not to dance with ANY of the mercenaries—especially Scout. I-I do not want to experience that again.”

Great, the suits proved to be useless when removing those quartz since she could fuse with the mercenaries. Maybe she should omit her last thought of convincing the rest to dance with Pyro. Hopefully now they're satisfied with... whatever they had fused into to not try again. To experience this personally was intriguing. She felt whatever her partner was feeling. Pyro felt so lost and scared and curious. They had to be okay for now. With wishful thinking, she hoped they will be more careful when asking for a dance.

Verbally Pyro did not respond, they merely glanced at the assassin then at Miss Pauling then back. This repeated multiple times until they waltzed over to the other mercenary, who sat in discomfort at the closing proximity. 

“What do you want?” Spy grumbled loudly, glowering at them.

After a few seconds of stone silence the pyro patted his head and muffled a thank you before grabbing Miss Pauling's hand to drag her out of the room.

“Uh-- Alright! I guess, we're going now. Thank you again, Spy. I won't say a word about this! And please, pleeaase don't mention this to Scout...”

For a moment, she could have swore that there was a smile on his lips.


End file.
